


Christmas torture

by drinkginandkerosene



Category: Deadpool (Comics), Marvel, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Christmas, Drabble, Fluff, M/M, Presents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-03
Updated: 2013-05-03
Packaged: 2017-12-10 06:48:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/783051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drinkginandkerosene/pseuds/drinkginandkerosene
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All Peter wants is to make sure Wade has a Christmas present he'll like.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Christmas torture

Wade, as it turned out, was hell to buy for.

Peter sat on the bench outside the mall, exhausted and still, as of yet, empty handed.

Aunt May had been easy enough; she would still have happily accepted macaroni and paint art like he had frequently given her as a child. That was about a year before he figured out art really wasn’t his forte. But still, he tried really hard to find her something nice, scraped together from measly pay checks from JJ. She’d appreciate it.

He’d had a moment earlier, one of the waves of grief that overcame him suddenly and knocked him for six. He’d walked into a watch shop before remembering, and it was the remembering that cut into his heart, made him feel weak in his bones, took the breath from his lungs. He remembered that he didn’t have to buy Uncle Ben a present this year. He’d escaped to the store toilets, pressing the heels of his hands into his closed eyes, producing a few long moments of blissful blackness.

When he’d finally emerged, eyes tinged with a familiar tint of red, his sadness was soon turned to annoyance. What did you get someone who didn’t care about, well, anything?

It would have been easier if Peter knew exactly what the Merc was to him. They were more than boyfriends, less than lovers, and whenever Peter tried to have /the talk/ with him, he acted as though Peter had threatened to shoot the cat. They slept together, frequently, but they also held onto each other afterwards. But yet Wade wouldn’t even hold his hand in public. Peter had a niggling, painful suspicion that Wade was ashamed of him, or at the very least, wanted to leave his options open.

The thing was too, Peter really wants to make this Christmas /good/ for him. Wade hardly had a hallmark childhood, and Peter really wonders if he’s ever even gotten a present before, or at least since he was a teenager. It wasn’t like he had anyone else now. It was up to Peter now, to care for him even when he didn’t need someone to.

He finally settled for buying something he knew Wade would use, impersonal as it was. Luckily, having connections to the underground of New York came in useful sometimes. A gun, plain in nature, a simple handgun, the grip carved with the Deadpool logo Wade seemed so very fond of.

So, when Christmas came, after Peter had more than fulfilled his good nephew duties, he went round to Wade’s modest apartment, knocking nervously. It wasn’t like he’d /announced/ his visit. He wasn’t even sure Wade knew what day Christmas was on.

The door opened, Wade leaning against the frame with a glass of whisky in a hand. Ah. So he did know it was Christmas.

“Parker? What are you doing here?” He doesn’t seem angry, which is a good thing, so Peter pushes past him into the familiar surroundings of the apartment. He’s kicked off ice covered boots in seconds, and is lounging on the couch in another few, much to Wade’s amusement.

“It’s Christmas, I wasn’t going to let you be alone, was I?” Wade didn’t question how Peter knew he was going to be alone, just shut the door and sat next to Peter, looking at him with a glance that Peter couldn’t quite decipher. He was oddly quiet though, and he couldn’t keep his eyes off the teenager, which in turn made Peter’s cheeks hot and flushed. He needed a distraction.

“Hey, I got you a present.” Wade cocked a brow, surprised.

“Wow, you’re the gift that keeps on givin’, ain’t cha?” Peter rolled his eyes, tossing the messily-wrapped present at the older man.

“Stop being so smug and just open it. Just be aware you’re an extremely hard person to buy for.” Wade nodded, tugging on the paper until it fell away before opening the box. A smile flickers across his face, a real one, not the sardonic smirk or the manic grin that so often is present. He shuts the box again slowly, before leaning over and kissing Peter, not in his usual forceful way. It’s very almost chaste, although Peter wouldn’t have minded if it wasn’t.

“Thanks Peter. You didn’t have to. Really.”

“I know, but I wanted to.”


End file.
